


Words

by JemmyMads



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst?, Bisexual Clint Barton, Clint Barton-centric, Clint protection squad, Gen, Happy Ending, Its kinda sad guys, Sort of AU, clints life is a mess, hes a bisastor, uplifting ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemmyMads/pseuds/JemmyMads
Summary: We know words in theory, but we understand them when we encounter them in our own lives. There's a difference.Clint discovers the meaning of words over the course of his disastrous life.~Basically my excuse to write a Clint centric fic because we're lacking those and a quote inspired me.





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this is a slight au where certain events never happen. And the ages are totally different.
> 
> Hope it doesn't suck, my first time writing in a while.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)

Clint is six when he runs away from the group home for the first time. His hearing is waning from constant beatings and he hides in a back alley a few blocks away from the overcrowded apartment. He never sees Barney come looking for him, never sees any missing posters or hears his name being called frantically. 

And he knows the truth, that no one there truly cares, that even Barney sees him as a burden.

He returns to the dreary apartment to judgemental glares from the other boys and a harsh punishment from the group leader.

Clint is six when he loses 80 percent of his hearing, when he forgets the word happiness

❂✻❂

Clint is nine when Barney wakes him in the middle of the night, shoving a hastily packed backpack into his hands and forcing him out the window, no shoes to cover his feet, no coat to cover his trembling arms.

He scales down the side of the apartment building with ease that only comes with months of practice. He asks Barney no questions as he’s dragged through the backstreets of their small town and to the outskirts where the rolling fields are. It’s here that Barney stops and turns to him.

“We’re getting a better life, Clinton. We’re going to the join the circus, they’re only here for one more night, this is our only chance.” Barney says it with such conviction that Clint can’t find himself to argue, and lets himself be pushed down a small path and through the open flaps of a circus tent.

The next morning he’s training with a funny looking man named Trickshot starts teaching him acrobatics. A bow and arrow is thrust into his hand, and he picks up on the skill easily.

Clint is nine when he learns what the word relief really means, when he finds something he may actually be good at.

❂✻❂

Clint is fourteen when his act is sabotaged in front of an entire crowd and he goes tumbling to the ground, knocked unconscious and presumed dead.

Barney had revealed his true colors a few nights earlier, and Clint’s faith in humanity had been shattered.

His act was always flawless, “The Amazing Hawkeye” was not an easy title to earn after all. So Clint knows it’s sabotage, the pit of his stomach churning as he realizes what’s about to happen, when the high wire moves not even a fraction, but it's enough to knock Clint’s balance off. Enough to have Clint’s arms windmilling for any sort of help he can get. 

He doesn’t even have enough time to scream before his world is turning black.

Clint is fourteen when he understands the word betrayal, when he loses all hope he ever held.

❂✻❂

Clint is fourteen when he wakes up in a hospital room far too nice to be paid for by the circus.

He’s alone, with not even an inkling of an idea for where he may be. Everything sounds fuzzy and distant and the lights are shining at an intensity that makes Clint’s head start to throb. The sheets are too nice and his hair it too clean and he  _ feels too trapped _ . Everything is too much and he can feel himself losing control of his spiraling thoughts when a young man enters the room.

He’s wearing a clean suit and his hair is cut short.

“My name is Phil Coulson, I’m here to talk to you about an organization called SHIELD.”

Clint trusts Phil, he has kind eyes and a big smile and he talks to Clint in a way that Clint has never heard before, gentle, yet not patronizing. 

“We think you have the potential to be one of our best agents.”

Clint eyes him wearily, picking up on several things all at once. Phil has a gun tucked into his belt, his shoes are half a size too big for him, he regularly wears a watch, he trims his eyebrows.

Clint smiles slowly, “I’m intrigued, Mr. Coulson.”

Clint is fourteen when he remembers what friend means, when he starts feeling at home again. 

❂✻❂

Clint is sixteen when he turns off his comms. Coulson is yelling at him at the same time that Maria Hill is attempting to scold Clint and get him to  _ just listen _ . Clint’s never been a good listener.

He turns off the comm and lowers his bow. The small redhead turns and looks at the building top where he is, makes eye contact with him and understands. And yet she just stands there staring at Clint expectantly.

“You’re the one they sent to kill me. Do it. Death will come willingly to me, god knows I deserve it.”

But Clint keeps his bow lowered, and his target - Natasha - understands, “Fucking coward, I’ll do it myself.” 

With trembling hands she raises the knife she had used just minutes before to her throat, presses hard and trembles, ready to slice.

Clint doesn’t think, because truthfully he never really thinks in the first place, and launches himself off the side of the building. The impact of him on the garbage bags in the well placed dumpster is enough to have him groaning, but he shakes it off and turns to Natasha, the crust of a sandwich tickling his ear.

She’s attempting to mask her surprise, but Clint has gotten good at reading people. He smiles cheekily at her, “I was sent to kill you, sure, but I’m making a different call.”

Clint is sixteen when he understands what the word father means as Fury personally wraps his cracked ribs and sprained wrist, being surprisingly gentle for a man with such a reputation. He’s sixteen when he finally feels proud of himself.

❂✻❂

Clint is seventeen when he meets Steve and Steve’s best friend and ex-brainwashed-to-hell-assassin Bucky.

Natasha and him were sitting peacefully on a park bench, having finished a mission the day before and finally getting a small break. Natasha was reading Clockwork Orange and grumbling under her breath every few minutes and Clint was laying with his head in her lap, tending to his cats on Neko Atsume.

“Tasha?” A cheerful voice calls, startling Natasha enough to send Clint falling onto the grass below them.

“Ow Nat, what the hell.”

Natasha only spares Clint a small pat on the head as she stands, “Steve. I didn’t know you were home already. And with such company.”

Clint pouts at the lack of attention but stands none the less to survey the new company, his interest appropriately piqued at Nat’s last comment. He already knows Steve, they occasionally sparred together when Steve first joined SHIELD. At the time Steve didn’t have full control over his super strength, and after a well placed kick to Clint’s chest, Steve was banned from sparring until he’d gotten control.

Steve was practically radiating happiness as he approached, though the same could not be said about the guy following closely behind. His hair was long and slightly wavy, his attire completely dark colors.

“Shit dude, you look like death walking.” Clint blurted before he could stop himself, slapping his hand over his mouth directly after with wide eyes.

“I wish I could say I was surprised.” Nat muttered as Clint stumbled over himself to apologize.

“Fuck man, mens, dudes I’m so sorry that wasn’t- I mean it was me yes technically but- it’s been a real stressful day with my cats not eating and- well maybe they’re eating but sorry doesn’t even- my stupid cats and stupid cute guys in the park with long flowing hair and pinchable cheeks”

As if to prove his point, Clint reached out and gently pinched Bucky’s cheeks.

Steve let out and indignant “Excuse me?” at the same time that Bucky laughed a surprisingly soft laugh for such a gruff guy.

“And then to fuck me further he has a laugh equivalent to s’mores and dogs perso- Nat why don’t you shut me up when I get like this you’re supposed to be my bestie, my one and only, my sista from another mista?”

But Natasha was no help, only shrugging indifferently “I think it’s funny when you get like this, it’s not very often.”

“Are we just gonna brush over the whole cat thing? Tasha I thought you hated pets.” Steve hesitantly asked, glancing at Bucky to make sure he was alright.

Clint perked up at the mention of his cats, “Oh boy Steve you’re gonna  _ love _ my cats. If you’re lucky I’ll even name one after you.” Clint babbled excitedly, queuing up Neko Atsume on his phone and slinging a lose arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“You too dark and rugged, I’ll find the perfect cat for you.”

Clint is seventeen when he gets the saying ‘love at first sight’, when he may see a brighter future.

❂✻❂

Clint is seventeen when he realizes he has a family.

Clint had recently moved into 20 year old billionaire Tony Stark’s building, second to top floor.

Tony and he had become friends when SHIELD had started inquiring Tony about his tech. Tony and he were both “assholes with good intentions” and Tony’s protective streak over Clint won over Nat, Steve, and Bucky fairly quickly.

Tony exited the elevator into Clint’s personal floor, not batting an eye at Clint perched on the refrigerator.  He flops onto the couch without so much as a hello, rather calling out, “JARVIS says there’s someone here to see you. He’s claiming he’s your brother or something.”

Clint’s mug slips from his hands and falls onto the counter with a crash, breaking it into a few pieces. He’s in front of Tony in a second, ignoring the jagged ceramic piece sticking out of his foot from his coffee cup.

“Where is he? What does he want? Is there anyone else with him? I should’ve known he’d come looking for me fucking asshole who deserv-”

“Woah calm down Clint, he’s down in the private lobby, there’s no one else with him. I’ll have JARVIS send him away if you want.”

Clint stared inquisitively into Tony’s eyes before sighing in resignation, “No, I should go talk to him. It’s just… I’ll go talk to him.”

Clint went to the elevator, disregarding the pain in his foot even as Tony protested.

( Tony watched Clint’s lithe figure, hunched slightly, as he went to the elevator, blood trailing behind him. It wasn’t often that Clint could find it in himself to hate people, so for him to dread talking to someone this much spoke volumes about his brother.

Tony sent out a quick text to  _ Clint Protection Squad _ and waited for everyone.)

Clint saw Barney wanted to throw up.

He heard Barney’s desperate explanations and plead for help and merely shook his head.

Barney deserved nothing, Clint was going to give him nothing.

It took nearly three hours to get Barney to get out, and the entire encounter left Clint drained. He went to the elevator and sat down, trusting JARVIS to know what to do. Blood was still leaking from his foot and his stomach was growling and he hadn’t had enough coffee for this and everything was horrible.

But then his friends were there. And Nat was leading him to the couch as Steve cooked mashed potatoes and argued with Tony about cryptology. And Bucky was opening his arms to Clint to snuggle into as Natasha began treating his foot. Tony left the heated argument to start up a movie (Tangled because Clint liked to teasingly call Bucky Rapunzel and it had become an inside joke to them).

Clint was seventeen when his found family learns his entire past, learns about the horribly abusive group home, the demanding and corrupt circus, his brother’s betrayal. Seventeen when his trust is built up again.

❂✻❂

Clint is eighteen when his life goes to hell again.

Bucky’s captors found him once again, and Bucky was on the run, in desperate search of an unknown cure.

Steve was on SHIELD’s wanted list, he was rumored to be in a closed off country in Africa trying to help Bucky.

Natasha was deep undercover, a vindictive streak to finish the Red Room once and for all.

Tony has locked himself in upstate New York. Bruce and Thor are nowhere to be found. Coulson is dead. Fury is dead. Maria is dead.

Clint is alone.

Clint is eighteen when he takes on the word resilient. He’s eighteen when he doesn’t let himself break.

❂✻❂

Clint is twenty when learns the word happiness,

It’s two in the morning in Greenwich Village. They’re windows are wide open, their laughter filtering out onto the streets.

Clint is dancing around, juice box in his hand, his hair unkept and no shirt on, sweats hanging low. His fuzzy socks cause him to slip every here and there, but he doesn’t care. Bucky’s hair is in a messy bun and he’s dancing around with a smile that rivals the beauty of the stars. He’s singing along to Destiny’s Child and attempting to finish making the chocolate chip cookies and Clint is helplessly in love.

Steve is sitting on the counter watching the two with soft eyes as Tony and Natasha finish a game of Gin Rummy at the dining table. Empty chinese take out cartons are littered around the TV, movie left forgotten behind them.

Bucky takes Clint’s hands and spins him around, Clint slipping slightly but laughing all the way. Bucky leans down and kisses him, they’re both smiling, giggling like idiots but everything is so unimaginably perfect and Bucky is so in love and Clint smiles like he hasn’t ever smiled before.

Clint is twenty when he learns true happiness, he’s twenty when his neighbors watch him fall in love with being alive.


End file.
